


And So I Took Your Hand

by SEMellark



Category: Free!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Episode 6 of ES, petition that we never forget jealous Makoto, sometimes he just needs to be looked after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEMellark/pseuds/SEMellark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It baffles him that Makoto could ever think he was anything less than Haruka's everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So I Took Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Another gift-fic I wrote for my best friend. She's always asking me to write smut for her, so what did I do when she turned eighteen? Gave her this baby. 
> 
> Basically a different version of events after what happened in episode 6 of Eternal Summer.
> 
> Or in which Haru is mature enough to not run from his problems until he almost loses his best feckin' friend!

Friends are very much like accessories.

Each person has his or her own personal style, and the possibilities are as endless as a person’s will to collect.

Like accessories, friends can be mistreated. They can be lost and then replaced just as quickly, as if it were possible to enter a shop and browse a row of fresh faces whenever the mood suited, tugging on a parent’s arm when satisfied to say, “I want that one.”

Nanase Haruka isn’t much for decoration. He never has been. His physical self is all that he ever needed to maintain, and friends take effort to care for – also like accessories – and that is something in which Haruka has always failed to take interest.

That being said, his friends, his attachments, are all important to him. None of the people he calls his friends are the same. They all have their quirks, general appearance, and interests, though it’s still a wonder to Haruka how the interests of those so different from one another all coincide when it comes to him, when it comes to swimming.

He remembers when they were all fresh out of the box, not a scratch or imperfection. With the years, it was only inevitable that they became worn and scarred by forces Haruka couldn’t have anticipated, couldn’t have stopped even if he’d tried. In some cases, it was his own fault, which only enforced the young man’s belief that friends weren’t something that those like himself could afford.

While the water could hurt him, Haruka, at least, could not hurt the water. Swimming had always come naturally to him, so of course he wasn’t worried where his own personal safety was concerned. No, it was never himself that Haruka worried about.

None of his friends came to Haruka because he chose them. It was all just a matter of convenience. The Iwatobi Swim Club was a communal ground for children with a passion and talent that was far out-shined by Haruka’s own, and he attracted an interesting sort.

Years later, Haruka again found companionship because of his love for the water, and while they were older, the company he kept was hardly different from the crowd of awed primary school children who tailed him daily at the swim club.

Most of the time, accessories are gifts. The recipient certainly doesn’t ask for them, but they smile and say thank you anyway. True gratitude may or may not come at a later date. Haruka did none of those things when his friends were presented to him, not when it was Nagisa and Rin, and certainly not when it was Rei.

They simply became his fixtures, shadows that followed him wherever he went, and slowly, surely, they became a part of Haruka’s identity.

Haruka doesn’t often say what he wants out loud. Doing so would only give others an opportunity to stop him, not that he would bend to their wills regardless. As a child, he would shrug when asked what he wanted for his birthday. If he couldn’t have his own backyard pool, then there wasn’t much point in presents, now was there?

Even so, Haruka knows that, in some strange world, if he’d gone into a shop with his parents as a child to pick out a friend of the human variety, he wouldn’t have shown much interest. But then, most definitely by accident, while his parents ooed and awed over the possibilities, Haruka would have taken notice of at least _one_ child.

Haruka imagines that the boy would be standing front and center, though everyone overlooked him because he kept his head down, his hands folded nervously behind his back. When he realized he was being watched so intently, the boy would lift his head, and Haruka would catch a brief glimpse of evergreen irises before shyness successfully hid them from view.

Haruka wouldn’t know why he was so drawn to the short, nervous-looking boy when bigger children dwarfed him on all sides with bright smiles on eager faces. But, even then, Haruka wouldn’t be fooled. Just a glimpse into that child’s eyes, and he would’ve known straight away, wouldn’t have had to even think about it.

He would take a look at the boy’s tag.

_Tachibana Makoto_

If he’d had a choice out of all the accessories in the store, Haruka would have stayed stationed in front of Makoto for however long it took for his parents to take notice, staring intently into wide, surprised green eyes. “I want him.”

Makoto was a miracle, all but gift-wrapped for him, though Haruka hadn't known it at the time. All he understood was that his parents were making him walk to and from school with the neighbor boy everyday.

“His mother told me he’s a little apprehensive about starting school. I told her it wouldn’t be a problem for you to walk with him, give him a little confidence boost.”

Haruka hadn't cared one way or another. He would do as his mother said, but he hadn't expected it to be a long-term thing.

Even if their mothers were the ones to organize Haruka and Makoto’s friendship, it all worked out in the end.

Or… so Haruka had thought.

Some part of Haruka is convinced he’s overreacting, but Makoto has been acting extremely odd lately. What bothers the blue-eyed teen most about it all is that he can’t pinpoint what is wrong with his friend _exactly._

Outwardly, nothing has changed about Makoto’s behavior. He’s the same lax, overly generous person he’s been for as long as Haruka has known him. Haruka wants to say that it’s Makoto’s eyes that have been making him think something is wrong, but the distracted look in his evergreen gaze was only the beginning of a series of disconcerting events.

The final straw came during preliminaries. Haruka hadn't known what to think when Makoto asked for them to race each other seriously. He had a horrible sense of foreboding, a fear that never completely left him even after things were settled between him and Rin. He had complete faith that Makoto wouldn’t react as violently as Rin had if he lost the race, but Haruka still didn’t feel comfortable with the request.

Of course, he could never deny Makoto anything, so he agreed. Some part of him had believed the race would remove that haunted look from Makoto’s eyes. Afterward, he’d watched anxiously as Makoto regained his breath. For a moment, it had looked as if his friend were crying, but then Makoto turned back to him with a laugh and a smile, familiar gestures that should have put Haruka at ease.

They didn’t.

When they all went off to the showers after the relay, Nagisa had pulled Haruka aside while Makoto and Rei went ahead.

“I think something is wrong with Mako-chan.”

“Why? What happened?” Haruka didn’t bother mentioning that he already knew that much. Whatever information Nagisa had would be helpful.

“He said – “ Nagisa had paused, eyebrows furrowed as if he were confused. “Actually, I think you should hear it from him, Haru-chan.”

The four of them parted ways at the train station, but even as Nagisa’s and Rei’s figures disappeared down the tracks, Haruka couldn’t shake Nagisa’s sudden intervention. Clearly Makoto’s behavior had changed just enough that everyone else was starting to notice. What else had to happen before it was Gou coming after Haruka?

He thinks his situation over as he and Makoto walk together towards their neighborhood. Makoto hasn’t said much since the four of them boarded the train to return to Iwatobi, but Haruka is thankful for the silence. He needs to figure out a way to broach the subject with Makoto without being pushy.

Time is something of which no one ever has enough, and Haruka runs out long before he’s ready. They reach the steps leading up to his house, and he starts up them, thinking Makoto will follow after as he usually does. But when Haruka is about halfway up, he realizes that the warmth at his back has disappeared.

He turns, staring down at the bottom of the steps. Makoto is just standing there, half turned away from Haruka. One of the street lamps shines down on him, casting a series of shadows over Makoto’s face that makes it impossible to see his expression clearly.

“Sorry, Haru.” Makoto says. “I have to get going. I promised my parents I’d be home at a decent hour.”

“Stay here tonight.”

That isn’t what Haruka had been thinking about saying, but he’s certain he has his friend pinned. Over the years, Haruka has accumulated an impressive collection of Makoto’s clothes, pieces acquired here and there when Haruka borrowed and forgot to return or when Makoto left them on purpose for occasions such as this. It won’t work for Makoto to make an excuse about not having anything to sleep in.

Whatever excuse he tries to come up with, Haruka will match it. He won’t continue to ignore this.

“We have school tomorrow.” Makoto says eventually, a hint of reluctance present in his tone. “I don’t have my uniform with me.”

“Get it in the morning.” Haruka will descend the steps and drag Makoto up to his house if he has to, though he knows it won’t come to that. “Stay. Please.”

Haruka knows he’s not being fair. He rarely asks anything of Makoto, which compels the other man to comply in any way he can when Haruka actually does. At this point, the young swimmer is willing to do just about anything to have a chance to figure out what’s going on inside Makoto’s head.

As expected, Makoto crumbles. “Okay.” He turns completely to jog up the steps, back to Haruka’s side. “I’ll call my parents and let them know.”

Haruka says nothing and leads the way up the remaining steps and to his front door, feeling more than hearing Makoto’s sigh as it yields to him immediately. “You really should start locking your door.” Haruka drops his swim bag on the floor, and Makoto follows suit. “A stranger is going to wander in one of these days.”

“I doubt it.” Haruka says. In reality, he so often leaves his door unlocked _specifically_ for Makoto, who is the only person who has ever wandered into his house without knocking, which Haruka doesn’t mind in the slightest. “You better call your mom before she starts to worry.”

It takes another half hour for them to actually start getting ready for bed. Ren and Ran each want a turn speaking with their older brother, excitedly asking him how the preliminaries went. Haruka listens as Makoto informs his brother and sister that they all placed first in their respective events.

When the two hundred meter free is brought up, Makoto sounds as cheerful as he’d been earlier that day when he announces that he lost the race to Haruka. It only serves to worsen Haruka’s own concerns. He hates it that he can’t quite figure out what’s wrong with his best friend, that it’s gotten so bad _Nagisa_ found it necessary to say something to him.

Makoto is like an open book to Haruka, they’ve known one another for so long. He shouldn’t be this frustrated and confused when normally he can figure out what’s wrong at a mere glance. Either Makoto is purposefully closing himself off to Haruka, or they’re starting to grow apart as their high school days draw to a close.

Both options are equally terrifying to him.

They lapse into silence when Makoto hangs up his phone, and the two of them undress in darkness and quiet, Makoto in the bedroom and Haruka in the bathroom. No amount of protesting Haruka does will dissuade Makoto from removing the ratty futon from Haruka’s closet and sleeping on it, just as he’s done for years.

Makoto likes to give Haruka his own bed when he sleeps over because _You’re the guest, Haru,_ though he won’t let Haruka enforce the same rule and never has. So, Haruka settles down in his own bed while Makoto grabs a spare blanket and plops down in a heap on the futon.

For a while, nothing happens, and this is the exact opposite of what Haruka had in mind. It would be so easy to just stay quiet and drift off, to let Makoto work out his own issues. If Makoto wanted his help, he would have asked.

Perhaps at one point, Haruka would have rationalized in that way and gone to bed. But that Haruka, that time in his life, feels like such a distant memory.

With a sigh, Haruka rolls onto his side and peers over the edge of his bed. His eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the gloom, so he can’t tell if Makoto opens his eyes at the sound of his bed creaking.

“Nagisa thinks something is wrong with you.” Haruka murmurs.

An immediate response. “He does?”

“Mhm. I do, too.”

Hesitance. Makoto knows better than to suggest that Haruka may be wrong about this. “… Oh.”

“You said something to Nagisa that made him worry.” Admitting it out loud makes Haruka’s eyes well up slightly, and he’s thankful Makoto can’t see. It’s only in the darkened safety of his own room that Haruka can admit that it bothers him on a profound level that Makoto confided in Nagisa and not him. “He wouldn’t tell me what, though. And I can’t figure out what’s bothering you.”

Makoto is quiet, but Haruka had expected that. His friend probably thought he’d done a decent job of concealing his chaotic emotions after the race, though Haruka finds that to be ridiculous. Makoto could breathe a slightly different way and Haruka would notice.

“Everything feels so strange right now, Haru.” Haruka inhales sharply. “This last year of high school kind of crept up on me. Everything will be different after it’s over.”

 _Not everything,_ Haruka thinks, though he doesn’t dare interrupt.

“I think what’s bothering me most is the idea that we won’t always be together.” Haruka blinks, and Makoto laughs quietly from his spot on the floor. “Sometimes I forget that Nagisa, Rei, and Gou are younger than us and we’ll have to leave them behind for a while. The thought really bothers me. Imagine if you and I have to separate, Haru. I can’t even fathom how hard that would be.”

Haruka can. He’s been thinking about it a lot, more than Makoto can probably guess. He’s used to saying goodbye, to his parents and grandmother and even to Rin. It’s only life, of course, to grow up and move on. Haruka isn’t afraid of leaving Makoto, because he knows it wouldn’t be for long.

What really concerns Haruka is that he doesn’t know how long he could stand it before loneliness suffocated him entirely.

Fairly certain that he knows what’s bothering his friend, Haruka opens his mouth to speak. For the first time in his life, Makoto actually cuts him off, whether he knows it or not.

“I wanted to swim against you today because… I’m actually jealous of Rin. That’s what I told Nagisa earlier. I’m jealous of the spark I see in you whenever you race against him. Stupid, huh?”

The words, coupled with Makoto’s self-deprecating chuckle, are simultaneously the most annoying and heartbreaking things Haruka has ever heard in his life.

Haruka stares down at Makoto, completely at a loss for words. He’s run through countless possibilities – Makoto is sick, something is wrong with one of the twins, Makoto has finally realized what an ordinary person Haruka is, was and will always be and will _leave_ – but the idea that Makoto was _jealous_ never crossed Haruka’s mind.

The young swimmer is no stranger to jealousy. Makoto is like a beacon in the darkness. He draws people to him without trying, and Haruka has never been one for sharing. It took a lot of getting used to, but eventually Haruka learned that while Makoto was free to associate with whomever he chose, at the end of the day, he was still Haruka’s.

To think that Makoto has the same problem is mystifying, but the fact that it’s _Rin_ he’s jealous of is even more so. Rin is important to Haruka, yes, and his relationship with the fiery redhead is different than the one he has with Makoto. All of Haruka’s relationships are different in many ways, but they all mean just as much to him. They’ve made him a better person, and Haruka is eternally grateful to every single one of them.

But can’t Makoto see that he’s _different?_ He’s always been the exception to every rule, and Haruka’s never had to try with him; which is probably just as well, considering that the blue-eyed teenager hasn’t always been susceptible to the idea of anything that involves effort.

Haruka hardly understands it himself, though he knows it to be true. Makoto means everything to him. When that happened, he’ll probably never know, but he doesn’t really care.

Makoto doesn’t need to worry about the future, about what will become of them once they leave high school. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were children, and there is nowhere Haruka would rather be.

“Haru?” Makoto has pushed himself up onto an elbow and is staring up at Haruka with open concern. “Are you okay?”

The older of the two men isn’t sure how to respond, so he doesn’t. All he knows is that Makoto is on the floor, and Haruka doesn’t want him there. He wants his friend closer, as close as he can get. He needs to show Makoto that the fire he ignites in Haruka’s blood is different, _so_ different, from the kind that Rin’s well-intended goading causes.

Something in Haruka’s shadowed expression must tip Makoto off, because his anxious expression gradually fades into something else entirely, his lips parting with a soft breath into the darkness.

Haruka finally moves, reaching over the edge of his mattress to grasp at the worn edge of his comforter and yank it up, creating an opening into his space. The atmosphere is thick and inexplicable, but thankfully, Makoto doesn’t stop to question it as he tosses his own blanket away and crawls to Haruka’s bedside.

The blue-eyed teenager’s body is thrumming with energy as Makoto lifts his hands to the bed and pulls himself up, looming over Haruka if only for the briefest of moments before sliding into the bed beside him. The blankets don’t have time to settle before the two of them are pulling at one another, Haruka’s hands finding his companion’s damp hair while Makoto’s slide up Haruka’s back.

Haruka doesn’t stop to think about what this could mean in the morning, if he’s actually making things worse, not better. Feelings he’s been suppressing since puberty are roaring to the surface with every breath Haruka takes, and by the time Makoto leans down to kiss him, the blue-eyed swimmer is reeling, because _of course_ Makoto would take the time to make their first kiss gentle and sweet despite whatever thoughts might be racing through his head.

Haruka’s never been kissed before, and to the best of his knowledge, neither has Makoto. It probably shows in the way they come together clumsily after the initial breach, noses bumping, teeth clicking together in the quiet of the evening, and tongues meshing together in a desperate plea for _more_.

Maybe it’s too wet – not that Haruka cares – and Makoto is obviously struggling to find the right angle to make this as comfortable as possible for Haruka, but the older teenager honestly feels more safe and reassured than he has since Rin tearfully thanked him after their first relay as a reunited team, no matter what the officials had to say about it.

After a time, Haruka decides that, while he’s more than happy to continue making out with his best friend until the sun rises, it’s time to move on. Makoto is being careful to keep the bulk of his weight off of him, so Haruka has enough space between their bodies to lower one of his hands to pull at the inky fabric of Makoto’s t-shirt.

Haruka feels a slight sense of loss when Makoto pulls away. The way his companion ducks down for one last, slow lick at Haruka’s own tongue makes the tight feeling in the young swimmer’s chest grow just the tiniest bit.

“Haru?” Makoto looks completely blown apart. Haruka isn’t sure what to make of it, though he knows the other man is asking him if he’s sure. Makoto won’t press if Haruka decides that this is as far as they’ll go for today, but Haruka isn’t having any of it. Leave it to Makoto to worry about his partner wanting to stop when Haruka was the one who initiated this in the first place.

He fixes Makoto with a level stare and doesn’t say a word. Makoto gets the hint and offers Haruka a shaky smile as he sits back on the smaller man’s hips.

Haruka has seen Makoto undress countless times in their many years of friendship, so he doesn’t waste precious time by pausing to watch as Makoto takes off his clothes. Instead, he squirms out of his own t-shirt and tosses it carelessly, incredibly impatient now that he knows he can have this, have Makoto.

Maybe Haruka will tell his friend how long he’s actually been waiting for this after they’ve finished.

A hand is on Haruka’s face, soft fingertips ghosting over his cheekbones, and Haruka’s lips part with a soft sigh as Makoto leans down to slate their mouths together again. Hands start to wander, and Haruka finds that Makoto somehow managed to remove every scrap of clothing on his large body without Haruka noticing.

“Want some help?” Makoto murmurs after he pulls away, tugging at the waistband of Haruka’s boxers.

A small noise makes its way up and out of Haruka’s chest in reply. His and Makoto’s faces are impossibly close, and slightly damp fringes of brunet hair brush against Haruka’s forehead with every breath the man above him takes. He reaches up, pushing the wandering hairs back as he’s so often seen Makoto do, knotting his fingers in the strands and pulling Makoto’s head down the slightest bit so he can place a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

Makoto makes a small noise in the back of his throat, something akin to the purring of the cats they so often feed, and he nuzzles their faces together as he shifts to tug Haruka’s boxers down his toned thighs.

It starts to dawn on Haruka then that he is completely out of his element. He is not an affectionate person, and while he’s spent far too long wishing for this moment, he’s utterly unprepared for the actual closeness of it all.

He can’t hide this way, not with Makoto slowly working his way back up Haruka’s body, pausing every now and then to place a kiss to a knee, suck on a hipbone, lap at a nipple. Haruka bites down on one of his knuckles and screws his eyes shut, trying to keep his legs from jerking as Makoto begins to mouth at his jaw.

The young swimmer doesn’t want to just lay back and get worked over. This is about Makoto, not him. But maybe what Makoto needs is to watch Haruka fall to pieces under his gentle hands, to have some proof that Rin isn’t the only one who can get a strong reaction out of him. If that turns out to be the case, Haruka can work with it.

Haruka stretches across his bed, reaching his arm out to grope blindly beneath the frame so he doesn’t disturb Makoto too much. But the motion doesn’t go unnoticed, and Makoto ceases all movement despite Haruka’s best efforts.

“You keep lotion under your bed?” He asks, more than a touch of amusement in his voice, and Haruka scowls.

“I get bored when I can’t swim.”

“Ah.” Makoto says, as if that surprises him, which Haruka knows it doesn’t. He pushes the small tube into Makoto’s hand, hoping to speed things along, but his best friend isn’t going to make it easy for him. “Wait, are you sure about this, Haru? Doesn’t it seem a little… sudden?”

“Does it matter?” Haruka asks, bending his legs at the knee and sliding them apart, and from the looks of Makoto straining erection, it really doesn’t.

The truth of the matter is that this entire thing _is_ really sudden. And as much as Haruka wants this, wants Makoto, he hasn’t really had a chance to mentally prepare himself yet.

But Makoto is hurting. Haruka can see it in his eyes even as Makoto focuses his concentration solely on fingering him, and it’s for that reason that Haruka knows the timing couldn’t be better.

Makoto needs to understand now, not later, that Rin could never do this. Haruka won’t even entertain the idea.

Truthfully, it’s hard to think of anything when Makoto is as close as he’s ever been before, breathing harsh and eyes hooded. Haruka’s eyelids flutter, and he reaches up to press his palm against the headboard of his bed, giving himself leverage to grind down onto Makoto’s fingers.

It’s true that Haruka gets exceedingly bored without proper stimulation, and while he’s fooled around on his own before, he’s never toyed with himself as Makoto is now. It’s new and a little frightening, the loss of control that Haruka is experiencing, but it’s okay, because Makoto is here, and he’s not going to take advantage of the situation.

“Makoto.” Haruka finds himself saying. “That’s enough.”

“You’re sure?” Makoto asks again, hesitance evident in his tone and gaze. He’s stroking the inside of Haruka’s left thigh almost absent-mindedly, and the motion is so soft and soothing that Haruka thinks he could fall asleep if it weren’t for the aching throb of his own erection. “You’re not exactly a girl, Haru. This is going to hurt.”

Haruka nods. “Just go slow.”

And Makoto takes his words to heart, preparing himself and pushing into Haruka at an agonizingly slow pace. Haruka isn’t sure what he would’ve appreciated more, Makoto just breaching him in one fluid motion or the way he’s testing the waters now, but it doesn’t really matter in the end.

Haruka feels more vulnerable like this than he ever has before. He can feel his muscles fluttering, clenching, struggling to accommodate Makoto’s girth, and he can hardly breathe. He’s being opened, torn apart and reformed anew by his best friend, the most important person in his life, and tears spring to Haruka’s eyes because Makoto doesn’t think he’s important _enough._

It comes as a surprise that Makoto misunderstands. “It’s okay.” His voice shakes. He’s trying so hard to hold himself back, Haruka can see it. “I’m almost all the way in, Haru, it’s okay.”

The blue-eyed swimmer almost starts laughing. Somehow he always imagined that Makoto would be awkward about this, but nothing could be further from the truth. Makoto is completely calm, regardless of the fact that he obviously wants this more than he can possibly convey.

It really doesn’t matter what they do. Makoto will always stop to make sure that Haruka is okay before moving forward.

Haruka has heard that you’re supposed to bear down – sometimes Nagisa has extremely important things to say – so he does, and they both groan as Makoto slides in to the hilt. Immediately, Haruka decides that he likes this, being filled to the point of overflowing by everything that Makoto is.

And it’s obvious Makoto likes it as well. His eyes are screwed shut, nose wrinkled and jaw clenched impossibly tight, and Haruka can feel Makoto's hips jerking in minute little motions as he continues to grasp at the last threads of his composure.

“It’s okay.” Haruka breathes, tossing Makoto’s words back at him. “I’m okay. You can move, Makoto.”

“I can’t. I’ll lose it.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Haruka murmurs, letting his hips sink into the mattress as far as they can, pulling himself slightly off and away from Makoto before snapping his hips back up, reveling in Makoto’s quiet curses. “You’re not going to break me. Do whatever comes naturally.”

“Naturally.” Makoto echoes, voice strained and somewhat muffled. Haruka can hardly hear anything past the pounding of his own heart in his ears. “Okay. Okay.”

Makoto pulls back, fingers tight around Haruka’s hips, and although the force behind his next thrust is hesitant, experimental, it feels like a solid punch to Haruka’s system, and his back arches against the mattress, palm slipping against the wood of his headboard.

“ _Fuck_.” He hisses, staring up at the ceiling. He’s startled himself and Makoto. He hardly ever swears aloud.

“Did I hurt you?” Makoto reacts immediately, green eyes wide as he observes Haruka’s reaction, and when he makes a move to pull away again, Haruka closes his thighs around Makoto’s hips, slightly disoriented but absolutely refusing to let Makoto back away from him now.

“Don’t you dare.” He says lowly, his voice akin to a growl, and Makoto blinks owlishly. “Keep going. Please.”

Haruka doesn’t even realize how badly he wants this until the plea leaves his mouth. If Makoto pulls away now, Haruka doesn’t know what he’ll do. Tackle him down and refuse to let him leave, probably.

They both need this. They’ve gone too far to just stop now.

Makoto seems to finally find his resolve, and he releases his hold on Haruka’s hips to readjust his knees on the mattress, leaning forward so he’s hovering over Haruka, arms caging his shoulders on either side.

“We’re together now.” Makoto says, and Haruka’s thoughts momentarily drift back to before, to when Makoto finally voiced his insecurities. His eyes were so sad, then. But not now. All Haruka sees is determination. “I’ll make the most of it.”

He pumps his hips again with more force than Haruka has ever seen Makoto put into anything, and Haruka is practically shoved into his pillow as Makoto sets and maintains a steady rhythm, as fluid and unrelenting as his movements in the water.

Haruka strains to meet his every thrust, though it feels like he’s been hard for hours and his movements lack finesse. He just wants to find release as soon as possible, so he can regain his ability to think and finally tell Makoto what’s been on his mind. He grits his teeth, arching his hips in an attempt to press his straining cock against the slick, heated skin of Makoto’s stomach.

The attempt doesn't go unnoticed, and Makoto grunts as he shifts again, bracing himself with his right arm while reaching down with his left to grip Haruka’s erection with fingers still slick and soft from the lotion. Haruka’s mouth falls open in a silent cry, and he finds it hard to believe that Makoto is a virgin, though of course he knows it to be true.

Makoto times his hand’s movements so he strokes down when he pulls out, so Haruka has next to no relief from the pressure. It all continues to build and build until Haruka can barely breathe and Makoto is panting from exertion.

“Oh, _God.”_ Makoto chokes out, lurching forward so his face is pressed against Haruka’s neck. Haruka is struggling to keep himself from losing control completely, but he somehow manages to lift his arms and wrap them around Makoto’s shoulders, keeping him in place as he fucks into him, hand still moving feverishly between their bodies. “I can’t – “

Haruka is the one who finishes first, with one of the strangled cries he’d been trying to keep at bay, digging the nails of his right hand into the sweat-slicked skin of Makoto’s back while the other holds fast to his hair, keeping Makoto’s head tucked neatly into the curve of Haruka’s neck and shoulder in case Makoto thinks he’s hurt him and tries to pull away again.

But Makoto doesn’t falter. If anything, the way Haruka’s voice cracks from overuse at the end of his cry seems to send Makoto spiraling into a place where restraint is a foreign concept. Haruka groans before he can stop himself, staring lazily up at the ceiling as Makoto’s thrusts become frantic, his fingers curling into the bedding so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Haru.” Never has Haruka heard the other man sound as vulnerable as he does in this moment, and his body strains at the sound of it, instinctively wanting to absorb every ounce of Makoto’s hurt, every uncertainty, every upset Haruka might have caused over the years, anything that made Makoto think this wasn’t possible between them. “ _Haruka._ ”

If Haruka hadn't already reached his limit, Makoto’s obvious desperation would tip the scales at this point. How a man as good and selfless as Tachibana Makoto manages to find so much room in his heart for a person like Haruka is beyond him, but he’ll never take it for granted again, not for as long as he lives.

With Makoto’s harsh breath puffing against his neck, Haruka screws his eyes shut and focuses on the swift pumping of his partner’s hips, the sound of their slapping skin, and lets go in the only way he has yet to do so.

“Makoto.” Haruka gasps out, pitching forward as much as he can as Makoto slams into his prostate, knocking the breath right out of his impeccable swimmer’s lungs. Part of him wants to see Makoto’s expression, but the other part – a stronger part – doesn’t think he’ll be able to get any of this out if the other man’s eyes are on him. “Don’t be jealous.”

With his blood roaring in his ears the way it is, Haruka can’t tell if Makoto makes some noise in response, though it’s probably just as well.

“Rin would never – could never – “ Maybe he should allow Makoto to pull away so they can look at one another. They’ve always been able to communicate so much with just a glance. But miscommunication is what got them into this mess, and Haruka isn’t going to leave any room for Makoto to misunderstand, not this time. Haruka keens, tossing his head back against his pillow as Makoto continues to lose himself. “I love _you!_ ”

Makoto’s hips swiftly drag to a halt, the entirety of his large body wired with tension, and Haruka fears he’s said the wrong thing until he notices a peculiar warmth seeping into him, and he relaxes, holding fast to his lover with arms and legs that feel like jelly.

Makoto’s chest continues to heave with effort for a few moments, and then the hand that was loosely gripping Haruka’s flaccid length slips down to the bed. “Haru – “ He starts eventually, his voice muffled against Haruka’s neck, but Haruka cuts him off.

“Don’t.” He’s aware that Makoto is still inside him and his own release is creating a mess of both their stomachs, but Haruka isn’t willing to do anything about it just yet. Depending on how Makoto reacts to what he has to say, this may be the only time he’ll ever get to experience this. “Don’t apologize. I understand why you felt the way you did, but there’s no reason for it. Don’t _ever_ compare yourself to Rin, because he’s Rin and you’re Makoto.

“There’s no need for you to worry about where we go from here.” Haruka can feel that his best friend of eleven years is starting to tremble again. He rubs his fingers into Makoto’s scalp, slowing his breathing down until it syncs with Makoto’s perfectly. This is all so foreign to him, and probably to his companion as well.

After overcoming his crippling shyness as a child, Makoto was always in the lead, and Haruka followed after him because he loved him too much to do anything but, even back then. Makoto was Haruka’s voice when the older boy didn’t care enough to respond when spoken to half the time, and he was always going out of his way to ensure that Haruka was comfortable in any situation they found themselves in.

For so long, Makoto has been the one looking after Haruka, the one who pulls Haruka from the pool. Now, the roles are reversed, and while he doesn’t mind being the comforter instead of the comforted, Haruka would prefer to never see Makoto in this kind of state again.

“There’s no need for you to worry because I’m not going anywhere. Not really.” Haruka is actually startled by the truth in his own words. “We’ll have to separate sometimes, Makoto, that’s unavoidable, but if we haven’t grown apart by now, I doubt we ever will.”

Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, because Haruka is painfully aware of the fact that he drifted away from everyone after his race with Rin when they were children. Haruka couldn’t bear the idea of hurting anyone else the way he’d hurt Rin, _especially_ not Makoto; Makoto, who was probably the person in the most danger of being let down by him.

Makoto suddenly shifts, and Haruka slides his hand out of Makoto’s damp hair in response. Slowly, the brunet braces his arms on either side of Haruka’s shoulders and leans up and away, pulling out of Haruka as he does.

The sudden absence and lack of warmth is disconcerting, and Haruka is left gaping in more ways than one, faced with the notion that he’s just become more dependent on his friend than he already was.

Time passes at an agonizingly slow rate as Haruka waits for Makoto to say something. Finally, when Makoto shifts enough that his hair no longer obscures his eyes from view, Haruka takes a long look and finds that he needn’t have worried about whether or not he and Makoto were on the same page as far as their relationship was concerned.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say in one sitting since the festival last year.” Makoto is smiling, and while Haruka wants to thoroughly inspect every inch of Makoto’s body now that they aren’t otherwise preoccupied, he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze from Makoto’s. “Sorry for making you worry.”

“S’fine.” It hits Haruka then how tired he really is. “Just don’t do it again.”

Makoto chuckles, reaching up to push the damp strands of his hair from his face, and Haruka’s body jolts slightly.

Even in the dark, nothing manages to escape Makoto’s keen eye. “Are you cold?” He asks, glancing around until he locates the black t-shirt he’d discarded earlier. “Here, let me clean this up first.”

Haruka lets Makoto dote on him, though it’s strange to lie back while his best friend cleans the come from his ass and stomach. Observing Makoto’s easy smile, Haruka knows he shouldn’t be surprised at the ease with which they changed their relationship.

But then, nothing has changed at all, aside from the obvious. Haruka would be the first to admit that he and Makoto have always shared a special kind of intimacy that marked them as something more.

“So,” Makoto says slowly, tossing his soiled shirt carelessly to the floor. He’ll insist on washing their clothes tomorrow morning before school anyway. “How long have you… wanted to do that?”

Haruka hardly has to contemplate. “Since I learned what sex was. I just never let myself think about it too much.”

Makoto stares down at him, evergreen eyes widening slightly with surprise, a faint blush darkening the bridge of his nose. It’s more than a little endearing, considering what they just did. “Seriously?”

Haruka nods. “My parents told me to make sure I gave myself to someone I was sure I loved. I never thought about doing it with anyone else.”

Silence greets Haruka’s words, which is just as well since he feels as if he’ll die of embarrassment at any moment. He’s not used to speaking his mind like this. Of course he tells Makoto things he wouldn’t divulge to Nagisa, Rei, or Rin, but most of the time, he doesn’t have to explain himself to his best friend. Makoto just knows.

“Oh.” Makoto breathes, turning his head and blinking rapidly a few times.

Haruka frowns, tilting his head slightly against his pillow. “Makoto?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Makoto swears up and down, but Haruka isn’t buying it. Haruka has seen Makoto cry only a handful of times in their many years of friendship, but somehow this seems different, and Makoto’s watery gaze and shaky smile reassure Haruka in ways words couldn’t possibly. “You surprised me, Haru-chan.”

The surge of affection Haruka feels in the pit of his stomach is foreign and actually catches the young man off-guard, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He can’t, not when he desperately wants to take this step with Makoto, finally, _finally._

He didn’t choose to have this man enter his life, but Haruka welcomes him long-term as Makoto chokes on something that’s not a laugh or a sob and hangs his head. A fine tremble works its way up and down his body, and Haruka studies every inch of visible skin with eyes that have no artistic intent.

Haruka has half a mind to be concerned, but he knows that everything about this is love, from the uneven palpitations of his own heart to the warm liquid seeping from underneath Makoto’s eyelids, spilling down his cheeks and falling to mix with the lingering stickiness on Haruka’s stomach.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Haruka murmurs, though he leaves it at that, not bothering to hide his smile.

Makoto only shakes his head, doesn’t look up, and even if he can’t see the happiness that’s surely in Haruka’s momentarily unguarded expression, there’s no doubt in Haruka’s mind that Makoto can feel it.

As far as Haruka is concerned, they might as well be the only people in the store.


End file.
